


A Healthy Dose of Protective Instinct

by astrocops



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, F/M, I'll add characters and pairings as they come up, M/M, Sub!Dave, a/b/o dynamics, i mean who doesn't like sub!Dave, minor incest, not consenting at all though, rape tw, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrocops/pseuds/astrocops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider, upon first inspection, is not that noteworthy. He reeks of alpha pheromones, he's handsome, he's cocky--he <i>is</i> the stereotype. Most people don't give him a second glance--betas and omegas included, because he's also got the faintest hint of omega pheromones on him, too--unless it's to admire how lovely he looks, regardless.</p><p>You never really have, either! He's just Dave--Dave who laughs so hard when your pranks fail that he's squirted apple juice out of his nose several times. Dave who acts like he doesn't give a fuck, but still trips all over himself to make sure his friends are happy. Dave who listens to really pompous, edgy music just so he has the knowledge to rip the songs apart when someone tries to defend them. Dave who collects dead things! Dave who makes you wish it weren't such a societal weirdness for two alphas to Bond--because if you're honest, you want Dave more than you could ever want anyone else, compatible hormones or no.</p><p>He's awesome, weird--but a totally normal guy underneath all that fake, layered on coolkid facade.</p><p>And apparently, he's not actually an alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dave Strider, upon first inspection, is not that noteworthy. He reeks of alpha pheromones, he's handsome, he's cocky--he _is_ the stereotype. Most people don't give him a second glance--betas and omegas included, because he's also got the faintest hint of omega pheromones on him, too--unless it's to admire how lovely he looks, regardless.

You never really have, either! He's just Dave--Dave who laughs so hard when your pranks fail that he's squirted apple juice out of his nose several times. Dave who acts like he doesn't give a fuck, but still trips all over himself to make sure his friends are happy. Dave who listens to really pompous, edgy music just so he has the knowledge to rip the songs apart when someone tries to defend them. Dave who collects dead things! Dave who makes you wish it weren't such a societal weirdness for two alphas to Bond--because if you're honest, you want Dave more than you could ever want anyone else, compatible hormones or no.

He's awesome, weird--but a totally normal guy underneath all that fake, layered on coolkid facade.

And apparently, he's not actually an alpha.

You had invited Dave over--a sleepover between bros, a chance to have Dave all to yourself, a chance to be selfish for a few hours! Things have gone smoothly, from a seriously intense Smash Bros showdown to a surprisingly smooth several hours of tag-teaming on Borderlands. Even as you wait for Dave to get out of the shower, you're impressed with what an awesome team the two of you made! That map pack you bought that had the mechromancer was so worth it.

And then Dave does get out of the shower, his hair dripping onto his shirt, smelling cloyingly sweet and nothing like the almost overbearing musk he usually does. You're not an idiot--you're genetically hardwired to find the scent of an omega alluring, just like you find betas alluring--but Dave smells downright _amazing_.

"Alright, then, your go. I'm glad you waited for me--but is it alright if I take care of a couple of side missions? My level is still really fucking low compared to yours, and I wanna give the Warrior a solid ass-whuppin instead of being a severely pathetic background support."

You nod, feeling almost numb. "Yeah, yeah! Go ahead, you do that. Save the Torgue weapons for me?"

"Only always, snookums."

"Sweet."

"Hey, 's it okay if I borrow some pajamas? I'm not exactly keen on crashing in jeans."

"Yeah--top drawer for teeshirts, second for shorts and pajama pants."

Dave moves to rummage through the drawers, and you're glad you've already gathered your change of clothes--you're almost panicked by the time you makes it into the bathroom, realizing exactly what kind of situation you'd thrown the two of you into unwittingly. You play with the shower knobs numbly, stripping and getting under the stream of water as your thoughts continue to run amuck.

It's the basic plot of all that romcom bullshit Karkat loves so much. Alpha meets omega. Alpha and omega become friends. Alpha and omega become VERY close. Alpha invites omega over. Alpha knots omega into the mattress.

It's the basic plot because it's fucking _true_. Inviting an omega over is practically a symbol of undying affection, if not incredible attraction. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It's not like you're opposed to the idea! On one hand, you're really relieved because alpha and alpha pairs--while respected and accepted--are not usual, and tend not to last long. Too many unmoving jugheads and not enough sensible thinking. On the other--this is Dave! Does Dave even like you? Probably not! He's seen you do so many stupid, unattractive things oh god oh god you have no chance all over again, abort mission, _fuck_.

You scrub yourself clean quickly, drying off and tugging your clothes on so you can tumble back into your room--you're not sure what you'll do there, exactly, but it'll sure as hell be something.

You find Dave lounging around in a pair of rolled-up pajama pants and a too-large teeshirt, intent and focused on beating the hell out of the robots on the TV screen. Maybe this wasn't the best idea--he's so fucking cute. Oh god. Even if he still stank of alpha, he just--

Dave in your clothes. Too fucking cute.

"Who's your favorite out of the older folks? Like Brick, Mordecai, Lilith, or Roland." Dave burrows down deeper in the blanket he's stolen and draped over himself, his hair mostly dry now. "I mean, all four are hilarious and great, but I think I like either Mordecai the best. Him and Bloodwing."

Dave's acting like nothing is different! That could be good or bad, but you take it as a good thing and settle beside him, trying to push your panic aside. "Ohman, definitely Lilith. She reminds me of you, a little bit."

"What, the stunningly good looks? All the red? The sass and ritz?" Dave lowers his glasses expressly to flutter his eyelashes at you, smirking as he returns to the screen again.

"No! Okay, maybe a little, yeah. But I meant how she phrases things! Like translating for Roland." And then you sigh, flopping down with a sad little noise. "...Roland. That wasn't any fucking fair."

"I know," Dave mumbles, shaking his head, "And now Lilith's captured."

"...I kind of have Tiny Tina's map pack, so I knew it was going to happen," you admit, "they're playing a game and she spends the whole time denying it."

"Aw, dammit. You know this is my weakness--my main squeeze, my favorite overall. Now I'm sad--poor Tina's a fucking trooper."

"Shoosh," you tell Dave, petting his hair for a moment. "It's okay. She just cares a lot."

"Poor kid," he mumbles, and you notice how he tips up against your hand. It takes a lot of restraint to pul away after that, but you do.

"Wanna go kill the jackass who killed him?"

"Yeah."

And so, over the next two hours, you and Dave level up enough to thoroughly--easily--hand Jack's ass to him on a silver platter. You actually sigh because you can't kill him outright--Dave lets out a muffled little sound of rage, burying his face in the pillow. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He's a little more satisfied when Jack bleeds out on the ground once the Warrior dies.

You're surprised at how early Dave slumps against you--it can't be any later than two. His eyes flutter closed as you look down at him, controller dropping to his lap as his hands go lax. "Come on," you mumble to him, "Let's get you to bed."

"'M 'lready on th' bed," he whines back at you, and you pick him up anyway. "Yeah, but you're not laying down properly. Come on--we'll play through all the map packs tomorrow before you go home, alright?"

Dave nods, and you carefully set him down with his head on your pillow. You're about to resign yourself to sleeping on the floor when he reaches for you. "Stay," he mumbles, and you can't say no to that.

He curls against you when you lay down, and you curve your body around his. He lets out a soft, happy sound and goes still, but even as he snoozes on, you're awake for a long while.


	2. Mission Let Egbert Know That Alpha Stank On Me Isn't Mine But My Obnoxious Brother's: Nearly Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternately titled: Oh Shit. We find out why Dave hasn't spent the night before, and exactly why his brother scents him all the fucking time.

Upon waking, everything smells amazing. Everything smells like comfort and warmth and wonderful, and when you try to sit up, there's a pitiful little whine from right beside your ear.

Your name is Dave Strider, and John Egbert is wrapped around you like a vice. Your legs are tangled with his, his arms are around you tightly. Fuck, he smells so good. You wonder if he'd get mad if...

Carefully, you shift under his hands. Untangle your legs, turn over, press close. You tuck your face against his neck and god, yes, this is an awesome idea. You're brilliant. You let your eyes slide shut and nose against him, looping your arms around him carefully.

This cuddling thing is really nice.

-

You don't really mean to fall back asleep, but you wake up to the careful pull of someone's hand through your hair. You smile and tip your head against the touch, eyes half-lidded as you steal a peek of your cuddle partner.

Still John. Thank god.

He offers you a little smile, and you burrow closer, content in the fact that he's apparently intent on coating you in his scent. You can tell he's been letting his pheromones loose, can smell the warm spice of him heavy in the air even when you pull back a little bit. "Good mornin'," you mumble, and he grins.

"Morning, Dave. Sleep well?"

"Mmhmm," you sigh, setting against his chest again. "Like a rock. Like I was on the world's fluffiest pile of stuffed animals. Like I took knockout meds. It's awesome."

"If you wanna get up, I'll make breakfast."

You barely bite back, 'oh my god, marry me,' and instead nod. You can't exactly make cracks like that, can you? Societal norms and all that shit.

He pulls away, and you make yourself let go.

You lay there in his bed after he's left the room, rolling onto your stomach to bury your face in one of his pillows. Mission Let Egbert Know That Alpha Stank On Me Isn't Mine But My Obnoxious Brother's: nearly complete.

It's not like you ask Bro to scent you--you've told him point-blank to stop, actually. But he seems intent on keeping you from finding a mate for some reason, and it's not like you'd found anyone you were interested in.

Until now. Because fuck, you're so interested in John. He's nice, he's funny, he's cute as hell--he's _making you breakfast_. He's a nerd, but in a good way--he gets your jokes and snark, and by god have you mentioned how nice he smells??? He smells so good.

And so does breakfast, now that you can smell it wafting into the room. It draws you from the bed, into the bathroom to wash up, and out to the apartment's little counter. You hop up onto one of the stools, resting your arms against the black marble of the bar. John offers you a grin, bright and sweet, before going back to--is that bacon? Oh god yes. You look up at the clock with a sleepy smile.

Oh, fuck, you had no idea it was so late. Panic claws at your throat, and you suppose you must gasp, because John turns to look at you. "Bro's gonna kill me," you breathe, "I was supposed to be home at noon."

"I can drive you after we eat?" John offers, "And I'll tell him I made you stay for breakfast."

He won't accept it, you know, but you nod and pretend like it eases your stress a bit. From the way he's making every motion to touch you, John isn't buying it.

Breakfast is the best thing you've ever put in your mouth, and you change into the day clothes you'd remembered to bring--not that you'd actually forgotten your pajamas: you just wanted to wear some of John's.

He drops you off with a smile and a squeeze to your shoulder, and you waltz in like you own your apartment. Nothing out of the ordinary here, nope. You're almost to your room when you hear, "Th' fuck've y' been?"

Fuck, he's slurring. Oh fuck, he's sniffing you. Fuck, fuck, fuck you hate when Bro drinks--

"Oooo, someone spent the night with an alpha. You get knotted, brat?"

You shake your head, eyes closed tight.

"Good," Bro growls, shoving you toward the bathroom. "You're mine." You move to go in, planning to be obedient, and he throws the first punch. "Promiscuous little shit," he growls at you, "I told you t' be home three hours ago. I told you not t' spend the night with anyone but Rose. I told you not t' get mated."

"I'm not mated!" Punch, punch, shove. You're on the floor--kick, kick, kick, kick. "Fuckin' _liar_!" You can taste blood--your sides hurt, you're sure there's a broken rib. He drags you up by the hair, presses you against the wall.

"You think you c'n get away with lyin' t' me? Huh? Got some news, brat." Oh god, he's pressing against you--you knew your brother was fucked up, but not this fucked up. "Liars don't get shit. Liars get thrown out on their perfect asses. Liars get treated like shit."

"I'm not mated! I didn't--he didn't--he doesn't--" Tears are rolling down your face, fear evident in your expression, and he fucking laughs. He's rutting against you--ruts to completion--and laughs all the way, shoving you away once he's done. His scent is heavy around you, and you think you're going to be sick.

"Get your shit and get out. I don't wanna live with a lying slut."

You're sobbing as you gather a scant bit of your stuff. You take everything you absolutely need--or want so bad it hurts--which boils down to your laptop, your favorite clothes, a small turntable, and your records stuffed into two bags. You pack your clothes in around your turntable and pray that nothing on it breaks. Your sylladex fills quickly, and you rush out the front door as quickly as you can.

It takes all of two minutes of sitting at the bottom of the stairs for you to decide you need to go back to John's. You stand on shaky legs and move, padding down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS. HOLY SHIT. I wasn't expecting this kind of response! Thank you so much, wow. I don't think all updates wil happen this quick, but I'm glad I'm writing this out so quickly! I know I added this in rather abruptly, but hey--this is a catalyst chapter, it's supposed to be a little BAM. More to come, hopefully sooner than later.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


	3. Be Mister Zuipperpips!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nurse Ro-Lal to the rescue!

You're finished cleaning up now, and you'll admit gladly that you're just laying face-down on your bed, breathing in the remainder of Dave's scent against your sheets. Mmm, he smells nice. It's not even a sexual thing--you wish you could just have him close forever, wish you could spend days and days with him. Not that you hadn't wanted that before you found out he wasn't an alpha, but you _really_ want it now.

A knock at the door, rapid and loud, drags you from your thoughts. You stand and pad to the door, nose still full of Dave's scent, and you're smiling like a love-struck schoolgirl.

Until you find that Dave is the one knocking on your door, sniffling and snuffling and _crying_. "Whoa, hey, are you--" Wrong, wrong, Dave smells _wrong_. He smells like that alpha again--smells like sex--and he's shaking as you let him in the door and lock it behind the two of you.

"Let's get you in the shower," you suggest gently, taking his bags. 

"Hospital," he croaks, "I need--I think he-- _ow_ \--" Dave gingerly rests a hand over his side and hisses, tears sliding out of his eyes anew.

You don't hesitate to guide him back outside and down the stairs, driving him to the hospital. "How did you get to my house?" you ask, looking over at him and gently capturing his hand so he can't keep touching his wounds.

"Walked."

"Hurt like you are?"

"I didn't want a confrontation," he murmurs, shrinking in his seat.

"Dave, who did this?"

He freezes, hand clenching against yours.

"Dave, _please_ tell me."

It takes until you're parked for him to whisper the answer. You can't quite believe it--but you do, because it makes sense, logically. It's his scent that's always on Dave--as tends to be the case when you've lived with someone your whole life.

"Bro. It--it was Bro." You get out, close your door and open his. You lock the car. Your breaths are carefully taken and let go, trying to keep yourself calm.

"I'm so sorry, Dave." You hear him sob again, and wish fervently that you could hold him, pet his hair, calm him down--but you don't want to hurt him, so you just take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Let's get you patched up, okay? And then we'll go home and get you settled in--you're not going back there. I promise, he won't hurt you anymore."

Dave nods shakily, bracing his shoulder against your arm. You let go of his hand to wrap your arm around him, as gentle as can be as you guide him into the ER doors.

-

Three of his ribs are broken, and you're seeing red. Bro is lucky he didn't puncture Dave's lungs--Bro is lucky you have self-control. Dave looks so fragile sitting there in that hospital bed, even though you know well--very well--that he can take care of himself. The fact that Bro didn't train him to defend himself from precisely what he did to Dave makes your blood boil.

Thankfully, Dave's been taken care of, pain medicine prescribed and a note to his employer written. He's dozing for the time being, and you're almost glad they knocked him out--you're going to have to sleep separately from him until he's healed, going to have to wait until you can't hurt him to hold him again.

"Are you his alpha?" the nurse asks when she comes in with the release forms, and you shake your head. "He doesn't have an alpha. He's staying with me from now on, though, if that helps?" She frowns a little and nods after a moment, and you scrawl your signature across the paper where she directs you to.

"What should I do? He's still asleep, I don't..." She offers him a small smile, winking. "Don't worry. Nurse RoLal can take care of you two!" And she does--she helps you get Dave on your back, unlocks your car door for you and helps you get Dave into the passenger seat carefully and gently. You take a jacket from your backseat and gently tuck it over him, flushing as he sighs and burrows into it, murmuring sleepily.

"You sure you're not his alpha?" the nurse--Roxy, you know now--asks, and you shake your head, laughing. "In my dreams," you mutter as you open your door. "Thank you for helping, Miss Roxy."

"Of course! But you gotta stay quiet about it. Be mister zuipperpips!" You actually snort because of how badly she botched that, and she offers you a gleeful grin. "Take care, okay? And--let him know it's not his fault, alright?"

You nod and offer her a little wave as you get in the car again, sighing as you start the engine. You can talk to Dave later about all this, you're sure--getting him home and in bed is more important, right now.

-

Waking Dave up is the last thing you want to do, but you wind up having to. "Dave, you can shower now if you want to," you tell him as you close the car door behind him. "I'll grab a towel for you when we get to the apartment, alright?" He nods, still very obviously drowsy, and slumps against your side, hissing his discomfort and sitting up a bit as his wounds make themselves known again.

"C'n we play Borderlands s'more when 'm out?" Dave mumbles, and you smile. "Yeah, of course. As log as you promise to rest."

"Wanna play Tiny Tina's map pack," Dave sighs, and you nose against the top of his head. "Of course."

You wind up having to help him out of his shirt once you get to the bathroom of your apartment, and you gape at the sheer number of older bruises littered all over him. "What--Dave, did he do these too?" His brows raise, and he nods. "House training. Learn to take a hit and no alpha can take you by surprise," he replies. Your horror is evident in your expression.

"Dave," you ask softly, "Why would any alpha want to hit you?"

"Don't most alphas treat their omegas like shit? That's what Bro always told me."

You're absolutely flabbergasted, and shake your head. "No, Dave--oh my god, no." Alphas are supposed to treat their omegas like royalty--or their betas, for that matter! What the fuck had Bro been telling Dave? This is so unfair.

"When you find your alpha, if they dare touch you like that, tell me and I'll beat the shit out of them," you tell him, and he actually has the gall to laugh. "I'm serious, Dave! I will beat someone bloody if they dare to hit you--Bro's lucky I don't know where he lives!"

Dave's expression changes--not entirely surprise, but mostly--and he offers you a little smile. "Really?"

"Yeah, really! I was so scared for you, Dave--what if he'd done serious damage? What if he hurt you permanently?" You sigh and shake your head, squeezing Dave's shoulder gently. "You get through the shower and I'll make a nice comfy place for you to play from, alright?"

"Alright."

You let go of Dave's shoulder and pad down the hall to your room, completely missing the gentle gaze he's sending your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that once I got over that horrendous update, I should post another chapter. I hope you're all recovering well, and I won't spoil things for people who haven't seen it yet, but... I'm torn the fuck up right now. My entire being fucking aches.
> 
> The good news is, we have two good reasons to believe this is an offshoot timeline. c: Stay safe, stay happy, everyone.


	4. Climbing the Ranks of Badassitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torgue, I'm pretty sure it would be 'badassdom' not 'badassitude', but what do I know. Alternately titled, In Which Dave Admits He Could Get Off To Watching John Beat The Shit Out Of Someone Over Him.

It's stupid that you're having to be so careful with yourself, but John being angry about it helps a little bit.

Is it fucked up to imagine John pummeling your brother? Probably. Do you give a fuck? _Hell_ No. It's kind of hot, actually--the thought of him protecting you, the thought of him wanting to.

If you weren't in so much pain, you'd probably be some kind of aroused, if you're honest.

However, you _are_ in an incredible amount of pain, and you scrub yourself off carefully, wincing the whole time you wash your hair. You get out once you're all soaped and rinsed off, and sling the towel John grabbed for you around your waist. Beside the towel is a stack of clothes--soft, well-worn, faded pajamas pants and an equally broken-in shirt. You smile and tug them on, but frown when you find you can't roll the pants up.

Oh well. You drape the towel over your head and pad into John's room, humming, "'M out now. Where's this super cozy perch you..."

Oh. That's. Definitely a super cozy-looking perch. John's back is against the headboard, a stack of blankets and pillows in front of him--are you supposed to sit between his legs? Oh jeez. Oh wow. You crawl onto the bed and settle in, though, gladly taking the pill John offers you.

"Painkiller," he tells you, "You took so long in the shower that I went and got the prescription filled."

"Thanks, John--I'll pay you back when I get my check, okay?" He snorts, shaking his head. "No, dude. It's fine, alright? It wasn't that much."

That's bullshit and you know it, but you don't push it--maybe some other time, when you have more energy to offer. You sigh and settle in all comfortable, startling a little when John tugs a blanket over you and sets a controller in your lap.

"I looked through and it turns out my data for Tiny Tina's Assault is corrupted," he sighs, "But we can always go for the Crater of Badassitude." You nod, and the two of you make it to Flyboy's section before your medicine starts to make you drowsy.

"Need a nap break," you mumble to John, and he hums. "Yeah, alright. I need a break for a while, anyway." He shifts a bit and you sit up, wincing but determinedly standing and setting the controllers on top of the Xbox. John's moving things around again when you look back at him, smiling brightly at you when you catch his eye.

"Come on," he laughs, "We can both doze, alright?" You can't argue with that, and you settle in the little nest he's made for you.

"I'd offer to do like we did last night, but I really don't want to hurt you," he says apologetically. 

"Aw, John, did you like cuddlin' with li'l ol' me?" You'd flutter your eyelashes, but his face is already flushing. You count it as a victory.

"It was really nice," he mumbles, and you let that appease you for the time being.

"Yeah, it was. We'll have to do some research, see if we can't speed along the recovery, huh?"

"Roxy--the nurse--sent us home with an info sheet," John supplies helpfully, and you smile. "Yeah, alright. 'M gonna sleep now."

"Sleep well, Dave."

The sensation of him settling his arm over you gently doesn't escape you, and you're smiling as you drift off.


	5. Strife!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro gives an excellent example of why you shouldn't fight drunk.

It takes four weeks and two trips to the doctor for checkups for you to be able to cuddle with Dave again. Four weeks of icing his chest when there's pain--or twice a day even when there's not. Four weeks of carefully dosed pain medicine. Four weeks of Dave coming home from work aching.

You go get his things from Bro's house during week two. It takes a lot of pleading and promises that you won't fight unless he starts it for Dave to give you the apartment number, but here you are.

You frown at the condition of the place. Dave was staying here? The door is barely hanging on its hinges, and the paint is peeling. You shudder at the thought of Dave living here, and make your way to the door. You knock, and a tall, broad alpha answers.

"Th' fuck d'you want?" he slurs, and you barely keep from wrinkling your nose in distaste.

"I'm here to gather Dave's things."

"Th' fuck you are. The rest'a this shit's mine."

"Legally, no, it isn't."

"I don't give a shit about legal, kid."

"Obviously, with the state you left Dave in."

That draws a response, and his nostrils flare. "You leave him outta this."

You fight back the want to push him to piss him off, and instead say, "I won't mention him again if you'll let me get his stuff."

He steps away from the doorway with a growl, and you pad in. You stroll down the hall, recalling which room Dave had told you to go to, and open the door.

It's absolutely wrecked, pillowcases ripped and blinds broken. You snarl, but set to work putting things in the boxes and bags you'd brought, carefully taping the boxes up tight once Dave's books and the rest of his records were in them. The rest of his clothes go in the bag, his odd jars of dead things wrapped in them carefully.

You don't expect to be stopped on the way back in the apartment once you've grabbed more boxes, but there it is.

"Who the fuck are you, exactly?"

"Dave's best friend."

"You smell like the alpha that knotted him."

Your brows furrow. "I didn't? We sleep in the same bed, but that's it."

"He came home stinkin' of you."

"It's none of your business if I scented him or not."

That doesn't draw a nice reaction at all--he pushes forward, snapping at you. Before you can blink, you've got your hammer out of your strife specibus, in front of you and at the ready.

He starts laughing.

"The fuck do you think you are, Crocker's long lost grandson?"

You smirk at that.

"Actually? Yeah, yeah I do. I know it, even."

You don't expect him to pull out his katana, but he does. You step back, lift your hands. "I made a promise not to beat the shit out of you unless you started it. Please just let me grab the last of Dave's stuff, and I'll go. No need to fight."

"Shit, no. You're asking for it, brat."

You sigh, holding out your warhammer again. "Fine."

You don't think the living room is the best place for this, but Bro lunges at you. You slam your hammer down on his blade, hard enough that it should make him drop it, but he lifts and pushes instead. You grit your teeth, pushing forward and moving to the side to swing your hammer around again--his blade falls when you move, and you catch him off guard. Your hammer slams against his side, sending him flying across the room. You watch as his blade clatters to the floor.

"If you wouldn't drink all the time," you tell him as you walk past him, "You'd have better reaction time, and I might not have hit you."

He growls, shifts, winces. You're out of the apartment in twenty minutes, all of Dave's things tucked away in your sylladex.

Dave smiles at you when you come in unscathed, and you return the smile.

"Did he give you any trouble?"

"A little, but I took care of it. He's lucky--his ribs'll only be bruised."

There's a moment in which Dave's face is pleased--but he quickly changes his expression, and you know why. He doesn't want to hate his brother or cheer for his pain.

"So, where are we..." Dave moves his hands in a vague spinning motion, and you smile.

"Same place as we've been putting your other stuff. We'll put all your fancy hang-up stuff in the closet as well as whatever else will fit, and the rest can go in the dresser. Unless you'd rather put your stuff somewhere else? I mean, our scents are going to mingle because we live with each other, but I don't want to do like he did to you--you know what? I can get another dresser! I can totally get another dresser, and I'll--"

"John." Dave puts his hand up in front of your face, shaking his head. "I don't mind walking around smelling like you. I don't mind at all."

You breathe out a little sigh of relief and offer him a grin. "Okay. So yeah, that's what we'll do with your clothes. And the rest--we'll find room! Your turntables can go in the "office" with my keyboard."

He nods, and the two of you go about taking his things out of your sylladex and putting them where they'll stay until Dave decides he wants his own place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG, HOLY SHIT. I didn't mean to!!!
> 
> The good news is, you're getting a double dose!


	6. Wait, What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave, this is why the simplest plan is the best one.

You feel like a freeloader.

You chip in on groceries and split the bills and all that, but you still feel like a freeloader--John hasn't mentioned you moving out, and you haven't brought it up, but.

What if he finds someone he's interested in? You don't want to keep him from getting laid or anything--or potentially fuck up a relationship because the assumption would be that since you're an omega living with him, you'd be bumping uglies.

You most certainly aren't, and you will admit to being a little discouraged because he hasn't tried to make a move on you. Oh well! You can get over your unrequited feelings.

And you do try to! You flirt with the pretty alpha girl at the bakery, you hit on the classy beta girl at the library, you invite that snarky beta boy in your English class to coffee--

And they're all spoken for. All three of them. The snarky beta boy isn't in a relationship, but he's head over heels for his best friend, and you understand.

You've come home and groaned into a pillow more times than you'd like to admit.

After the seventh time, John asks you what's up.

"Am I not an attractive omega?" you whine. "Everyone I try to flirt with is taken, interested in someone else, or just not interested in me at all. Is it my personality? Is it because I actually had the 'nads to ask out that beta and everyone knows and no one wants a ballsy omega?" You flop back onto the couch cushions, sighing loudly.

Moments later, John sits beside you and slides a hand into your hair. "You're really attractive, Dave! Maybe you're just not asking the right people, you know? Maybe they're closer than you think, or maybe you haven't met them yet. Either way, it's not anything that's wrong with you--you're handsome and fun to be around and just really awesome in general." His fingers are rubbing gentle circles against your scalp, and you manage a happy little sound.

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely."

"You're not just saying it because I'm sad?"

"No way!"

"Even though I'm a ballsy omega?"

He actually laughs at that, and you smile.

"Alright, alright. Yes, even though you're a ballsy omega. It makes you even more awesome, because it's so you."

You peer over your shoulder at him, and make yourself ask, "Would _you _date me?"__

__He sucks in a breath, holds it. You prepare yourself for rejection, but he replies, "You know, I would." His voice is soft, almost humored. "Yeah. I'd date you, Dave. I'd be stupid to turn you down."_ _

__Oh. Your face flushes a little, and you ask softly, "Would you like to go out sometime, then?"_ _

__He leans down and kisses the top of your head. "I'd be glad to. Friday at seven?"_ _

__You roll over and sit up, raising your eyebrows. "You'd cut out on movie night?"_ _

__"To go out with you? Absolutely."_ _

__That does nothing for the blush on your cheeks, and he laughs a little as you cover your face with your hands._ _

__"Yeah," you finally murmur, "Friday at seven sounds great."_ _

__John kisses your cheek and goes to study, humming as you lay down on the couch again and ask yourself why you didn't just try that in the first place._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly tempted to post chapter seven as well, but I have to ask my roleplay partner if it's okay that I use our roleplay ideas!
> 
> Either way, enjoy! Next chapter, we learn about what the hell Jake and Dirk have been up to.


	7. Things Are Going Great, And They're Only Getting--Confusing??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're Dirk Strider, and shit's about to hit the fan.

Your name is Dirk Strider, and your life is pretty fucking bomb. Your brother is a producer of incredibly awesome movies, you live in the lap of luxury, and did you mention you have a super hot beta boyfriend? Well, you do.

So you'd say your life is going pretty damn smooth.

At least--most of the time.

Your brother's having another episode. You wish he'd explain what happened to his mate to you, but all he'll tell you is that things went badly and he can still feel the bond when his mate's emotions are particularly strong.

This is one of Those Days. Those Days have been happening really frequently lately, and so you're pulling yourself away from Jake in the middle of the night again, slipping away as you hear soft sobs echoing in the room across from yours.

"Bro?" you murmur as you open the door, "Bro, you alright?"

"I'm okay, it just--just go back to bed, Dirk. I'm fine."

"You're no such thing," you sigh, and crawl in with him. He doesn't protest anymore once you curl your arms around him, instead slumping against you and crying into the collar of your shirt.

"Shh," you whisper, "It's okay, Bro. I'm here. I've got you--he can't hurt you anymore."

"I'm scared for--for his kid," he whimpers, "I know he's got to be drunk to be like this, and I can't--I can't imagine what the kid's going through. Poor kid."

He cries harder after that, and you hold him together through the worst of it, letting your scent loose just a little to calm him down.

"He's got a kid?" you ask once he's calmed down a bit, and Bro nods. "Two of them, actually. Twins."

You nod, and he admits, "They're my kids."

Your brows raise, and just as you go to speak, there comes a blow you don't handle well--

"You're one of them, Dirk."

That really sends you reeling. Holy shit. Holy shit, you're Bro's kid? You always thought-- He always told you--

You knew Bro was transgender. You knew and you also knew it made him no less of a man.

You can't imagine the dysphoria he had to have gone through, having you. Shit, he couldn't have been more than seventeen--

Fuck. /Fuck/.

And then it hits you.

You have an unaccounted for sibling.  
One who might be in danger right now.

You squeeze Bro tighter and nose against his hair, breathing shaky as he sobs into your shirt once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A quick update? Holy shit.
> 
> Told you Dirk was coming up!


	8. Devil Fucking Dickens!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Jake! What the dickens is going on with the Strider brothers?

You're Jake English, and devil fucking dickens, does the sun really have to be that bright?

You whine and roll over, feeling about for your mate, and freeze when you find he's not there.

Well, shit. It seems David had another rough night, then--light sleeper that Dirk is, he always wakes up when his brother is crying. While you think it's bloody sweet that he runs to comfort him, you also miss your bedmate in the mornings.

You make yourself sit up, feeling about on the bedside table for your glasses and stretching before getting out of bed. You tug on a shirt and walk across the hall, peering in to see if the Striders are there. No, not at all--and so you head for the kitchen, admittedly beginning to smile the stronger the smell of bacon gets.

"...so I have a twin brother?" Dirk is asking, and you walk up behind him to wrap your arms around his middle.

"Yeah. His name's Dave--that idiot named him, not me--and he's an omega. That's really all I know about him, regrettably. If I would've known how all this would turn out, I would've just--kept both of you! Fuck, why didn't I keep both of you?"

You're thoroughly confused until Dirk pulls away enough to turn and kiss you, offering an explanation after: "Bro's actually my dad and my other dad is an asshole. And I have a twin."

You nod slowly, seating yourself beside Dirk at the bar and leaning your head against his shoulder.

"if you'd like to find him, I can help," you offer, and David shakes his head.

"I know where he is, but I don't want a confrontation with his father." His expression falls a little, and he lifts a hand to the mark on his neck. You touch your own briefly and look away--to have mated properly, the _painful_ way, David must've loved this jerk very, very much.

"Still--shouldn't the two of you see him? It's terrible that you haven't been able to."

"I can email him," Dirk offers, and you kiss his shoulder. "Our father, I mean. You don't have to, Bro."

There's a long moment's pause, and David sighs deeply. "If you're sure," he replies, "I don't mind giving you his email address."

Your brows raise. "You still _have_ his email address?" Dirk asks, sounding as shocked as you are.

"No," David snorts. "He sends messages to me constantly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I'm working on chapter 12 right now, holy shit. I'm sorry this one's so terribly short--I simply said all I needed to quickly.


	9. Grow Up, You Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emails are written. Dirk's not pleased with his sperm donor, not in the least.

To: tantalizingTycoon@skaia.net  
From: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
Subject: So. You're my sperm donor.

You sorry sack of shit. Don't you think I might like to meet my own brother? Don't you think David deserves to see his son? You're deplorable. Would it really be so hard to just ask Dave to meet up with us somewhere? We would even pay for tickets to have him visit! David shouldn't be made to see you so he can see his kid--that's not fair.

Grow up, you bastard,  
Dirk Strider  
-  
To: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
From: tantalizingTycoon@skaia.net  
Subject: Re: So. You're my sperm donor.

Took you long enough. Nice to meet you, brat. Your brother moved out. How is David? Tell him I miss him.  
-  
To: tantalizingTycoon@skaia.net  
From: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
Subject: Re: Re: So. You're my sperm donor.

I'm not giving David any messages from you, asshat. Okay, if Dave moved out, do you have a way we can contact him? Again, I'd kind of love to meet my own brother. Since, you know, you're a sorry, cheating son of a bitch and busted our family wide open.  
-  
To: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
From: tantalizingTycoon@skaia.net  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: So. You're my sperm donor.

He's living with a friend of his. I don't know his information, just that he's apparently part of the Crocker family. Or maybe not--he might've been lying. Wields a hammer. Dave goes to the University of Houston--maybe you can catch him there.  
\--

You groan, pushing away from the computer. _Fuuuuck_.

"Goddamnit!" you shout, and make yourself relax. It's okay--it's alright, you'll just have to call up the university and see what they can give you.

So you do. And you run into a shitton of dead ends.

"We can't give you that information."  
"We can't tell you if we have that student here."  
"We can't provide a housing location."

So you get sneaky.

"Hey, uh. I have a project due in a few days for my Psychology class, and I'm working with Dave Strider. He didn't give me anything to contact him by--is it alright if I ask for his campus email?"

Bingo.  
\--  
To: dstrider@uh.edu  
From: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
Subject: We have a lot to talk about--please open this, it's important.

I swear to god this isn't spam mail. Let me say that right now, I swear to god this isn't spam mail.

My brother David has been having a lot of emotional breakdowns lately. You see, about... oh, twenty-two years ago, he was mated to this total jackass alpha, right? Legitimately mated. Still has the scars and everything. He loved the guy. Sadly, the guy didn't love him all that much and cheated on my brother.

My brother is transgender, female-to-male, and it turned out he was fucking pregnant.

Naturally, when he found out he was being cheated on, he broke that shit off. The alpha wouldn't leave him alone, though, because he knew David was pregnant. So David gave birth and ran for the hills.

He gave birth to twins. That's us, as I'm sure you've figured out. One Dirk Strider and one Dave Strider. So what I'm saying is, David isn't actually my brother but I've been told he was. He was seventeen when he had us. He's been feeling some rough shit from his end of the bond lately, and he's really, really worried about you. You don't have to say much, but could you please email him at tactfulGuidance@skaia.net and tell him you're okay? I mean, I'd love to hear from you too--it's not every day you learn you have a twin brother--but he's really scared and really worried and I'd rather you send him something first.

Take care,  
Dirk Strider


	10. How Are Things On The Dave Front?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's skeptical, but hopeful--and he's responding hesitantly. Thank the gods he's got a mate willing to support him in all he does.

To: tactfulGuidance@skaia.net  
From: turntechGodhead@skaia.net  
Subject: So... Apparently I'm your son?

Uh. Hi.  
Shit, I don't know what to say. I don't even know if you're telling the truth. Just--know that I'm okay. I'm living with my best friend, who I'm now dating, and Bro can't hurt me anymore. I don't think he really meant to in the first place but John keeps telling me that doesn't matter, and that I shouldn't excuse him from it just because he was drunk.

Is it okay to ask for a picture of you? You and Dirk? I can definitely send one of me back if you do.

Nice meeting you,  
Dave Strider  
-  
To: timaeusTestified@skaia.net  
From: turntechGodhead@skaia.net  
Subject: Hey, it's Dave.

Hey--I kind of hate my university email, so I'm going to talk to you from here.

I sent David a message--I don't know if it'll help, because I admitted that Bro did hurt me, but. I sent it and told him I'm okay and safe.

How are the two of you? I want to know more about you. I'm still not sure if I can believe you quite yet, but I'm interested regardless. If this is all a lie, it's an intricate one.

I'm hoping it isn't a lie, though. It would be...really awesome to be able to meet a side of my family who might not hurt me. I've always wanted to be close with my family.

You take care too,  
Dave Strider  
\--  
You sigh and flop back on yours and John's bed, making sure your emails send before closing your laptop. It's done. You just have to wait for pictures that will hopefully prove them right, and more information.

You roll off the bed to set your laptop in your backpack and crawl back into bed, under the covers properly this time. John lets out a sleepy little mumble and drags you close, nosing against your neck and sighing his content. You let your scent loose a bit and he growls softly, arms tightening around you as he presses kisses to your neck.

God, you love everything about this.

Things have settled down in the four months you've been living with John. Work is going smoothly, school is winding down, and you're...actually in a relationship for the first time in your life. You may have a brother. You may have a father.

The thoughts have you smiling as you curl your fingers in John's hair.

"Mm. Done typing?" he mumbles, opening his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm not checking my email again tonight, though. They can wait until tomorrow."

He moves a little so he can sprawl on top of you, smiling against your collarbone. "Good, 'cause I don't know if I'm gonna feel like letting you up."

You snort and feign pushing at him--that lasts for all of five seconds and then you've got your arms around his shoulders, sighing happily.

"Thank you for being supportive as I'm looking into this," you whisper, kissing the top of his head.

"'F course, sweetheart," he murmurs against your neck, pressing a kiss to your scent glands before leaning up to kiss you proper. "You want to know--I want you to know if you want to know."

You don't stay awake for long after that, not with a personal space heater atop you in the form of your boyfriend. Your dreams are pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all so nice and I just keep wanting to reward your niceness with the chapters I have written already!!! I don't mean to update so quickly, but you're just all so darn nice!!!! Things like this are why I need self-control and schedules.


	11. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave gets the nerve to respond.

To: turntechGodhead@skaia.net  
From: tactfulGuidance@skaia.net  
Subject: Re: So... Apparently I'm your son?

IMG0937.png  
IMG1204.png  
IMG1387.png  
IMG4756.png  
IMG4799.png

There you go! The first one is Dirk and I at his graduation, the second is he and his mate, Jake. The third is a picture of the two of us at one of my premieres, the fourth is the two of us as well as Jake on a trip we went on this summer, and the last one is a picture of your birth certificate (which I STILL have the original copy of) because I want to impress just how serious I am about all this.

How are you? What are you majoring in? I hear you're dating someone--are they treating you well? Do you have many friends? I just want to know everything about you--I've got twenty-one years to make up for! Please tell me anything you even remotely think I'd want to hear.

I didn't want to leave you with him. I wanted to keep you with me--but he refused to leave if he didn't have one of the two of you. I've thought of you every day--remembered holding you in my arms the first and last time, wondered how you were, hoped you were happy.

Would it be too much to ask if we could come visit? We'd stay in a hotel, of course, but I would love to be able to see you again.

Be safe,  
David Strider  
-  
To: tactfulGuidance@skaia.net  
From: turntechGodhead@skaia.net  
Subject: Re: Re: So... Apparently I'm your son?

IMG6543  
IMG7386  
IMG9004  
IMG9376

Holy fucking shit, you're D. V. Stri. Excuse me while my mate and I flip the fuck out.

Okay. Okay I think I've gotten acclimated to this. Holy shit, I love all of your movies. That's all I'm going to say, because there are way more important things to talk about.

Okay. First picture: blast from the past, me in my scene phase in high school. Figured you'd enjoy that because hey, me growing up. The second image is me and John. (Look at that guy. What a nerd.) The third is me and a friend of ours, Jade Harley. The fourth is just a picture of the skyline from our apartment--mine and John's, not mine and Bro's.

I'm doing pretty awesome now. Four months ago, Bro beat the shit out of me, busted my ribs, and kicked me out. Since then, everything has gotten better--I'm happier, work's going great, school's a breeze.

Ironically enough, I'm majoring in art and film because guess who inspired me? (I'm still trying to get over the fact that I didn't even know you were my dad and I was trying to be like you, holy shit.) That's going well--I have a lot of neat art projects I'm working on, I've helped with some pretty great indie films, etc, etc.

My mate is fucking _awesome_. His name's John Egbert and he's from Washington. He's a huge nerd, so he's majoring in biochemistry with a minor in music. He's a pianist and writes his own music--he's written and recorded several things for me throughout our friendship and that's only grown into more music for me now that we're together. He's incredible--he treats me like I'm indefinitely precious while still managing to treat me like his best friend, and it's awesome. (Before I forget, he says hi and that he promises he'll keep me safe and happy.)

I don't have a whole bunch of friends, but the ones I have are really great. They're a little reserved and definitely strange, but they're the best friends I could ask for.

You are definitely welcome to visit. Absolutely. Abso-fucking-lutely. I'd protest you staying at a hotel and insist you stay with us, but mine and John's apartment is teeny-tiny. I would love to meet you face to face.

My number's 832-124-5603. Please call or text any time--I'd love to talk to you.

Take care,  
Dave Strider  
\--

You download the pictures and smile--oh, gods, he looks so fucking happy. "Dirk!" you call, "Dirk, come look at your brother! He's like a tiny me, it's fucking adorable!"

"Narcism," Dirk calls as he walks into the living room. "Whoa, hey, he does look like you."

He pauses, peering closely at the picture of Dave and his mate, and declares, "I already don't like 'im. Don't even have to know him."

You snort, shaking your head. "Dirk, no protective big brother schtick. He sounds nice--he makes Dave happy and takes really awesome care of him and let him move in after your father kicked him out."

"That's basic 'how to be a passing mate 101'," Dirk grouses, and you argue, "They weren't together then. And he writes music for him--come on, admit that's sweet. You do the same for Jake."

"You rang?" Jake pokes his head in, expression curious. "I heard my name."

"Look at my other kid!" you enthuse, ushering him over. "This is him in high school, this is him and his mate, this is the two of them with a friend--"

"That's my cousin," Jake mumbles dazedly. "And--and that's my sister! Oh my god, it's like they've grown five years worth in a year of college! Oh my god..."

You look at Dirk, he looks at you, and both of you look back to Jake.

"So, my brother is dating your cousin?" Dirk manages slowly.

"Looks like! Good thing, that--I suppose this Dave is the Dave he's been on about for so long! But I thought you said he was an omega? I could've sworn he was the cause of John's 'oh no, I like another alpha' panic."

"That would be a misunderstanding," Dirk replies. "Bro scented him all the time and everyone thought Dave was an alpha, but he's not. I asked him about it and he answered in detail."

"That explains everything."

"I have his phone number," you insert, and Jake's eyes light up. "We should call them together! I know you'd love to hear Dave's voice and it's been far too long since I've spoken to John."

You move to get your phone, sending Dave a text explaining who you are and asking if it's okay that you call now. He replies yes, and the three of you huddle around your phone as you hit call and put it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dave," you say, and your breath catches. "Hi. Oh my god, it's so good to hear your voice."

"Your accent's heavy, bro," Dirk adds, and Jake laughs softly. "Not bad, just heavy."

"Dirk?" Dave asks down the line, and Dirk lights the fuck up

"Yeah, man. It's me."

"Hey," Dave says, and it sounds like he's getting choked up. "Holy shit, hi, you two. I'm so glad you called."

That's definitely a sniffle, and you hear a soft shushing from his end. "Is that John?" you ask, and Dave replies, "Yeah. He's--doing moral support right now, you know how it goes."

"Could you put him on the line, by chance?" Jake asks, "I've a word or two for him, if it's alright."

"Alright, it's on speaker. And you are?"

"Jake English," Jake replies proudly, "And by Jove, John, you've kept me quite out of the loop! It's been ages since I've heard from you--what does a gentleman have to do to bribe his cousin into a message now and then?"

"Holy--no way. No way." John's laughing down the line, deep and happy, and you can't help your smile. "Jake! Oh my god, how do you know the Striders?"

"He's my mate," Dirk butts in, "And speaking of, I trust you're treating my brother well?"

"Dammit, Dirk," you sigh as Dave cuts in, coming to John's defense with a passion. "I just got out of one shithole abusive household, I'm not gonna bounce into another one, jesus h. christ. He treats me like a damn prince."

"I do not treat you like a prince--" John tries to protest, embarrassment seeping into his tone.

"Songs. You write me songs and beat Bro up when you went to get my stuff and took care of me when I was hurt--you treat me like a prince, end of story."

"But--"

"You walked through snow to get me apple juice. Headphones for Christmas. Let me sleep in your clothes."

You're laughing at this point, and Jake suggests, "Drop it, cous--Striders are bloody stubborn."

"Alright," you hear John grumble, and Dave murmurs something to him.

"What would be a good time to visit?" you ask, expression going a bit soppy. "We can certainly make it happen any time from this direction, but I don't want to interrupt any plans."

"After the end of May," Dave insists, "That way school's finished for the semester and I'm not tempted to skip school."

"We can definitely do that. The beginning of June, then!" Dirk grabs you and gives you a squeeze, and it's then that you realize tears are rolling down your face.

"Is Dave falling to bits, by chance?" Jake asks, and John laughs softly. "Yeah," he replies fondly, "He's really, really happy."

"So soon, sweetheart," you promise, "We'll be there so, so soon."

"I can't wait," Dave whispers, and you have to rub at your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please for the love of all that is holy don't call that number. I don't know whose it is--I just typed in one of the Houston area codes and a bunch of random numbers--and I really don't wanna piss off anyone!
> 
> I'm posting two chapters now because I'm just. Really excited about the next chapter, alright? You'll see why.


	12. Bang A Gong (Get It On)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that the label implies.

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"It's gonna hurt, sweetheart."

"I know."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes, oh my god, John. I'm really sure, alright? I'm serious about this--serious about _you_ \--and I'm ready."

"We can stick to hickeys, you know I don't mind--"

"No, but don't you want to mark me as yours?"

John shivers a little, and you can see you're breaking him down a bit.

"Yes," he replies, voice low, "but I want you to be absolutely sure."

You wrap your arms up around his neck, looking up at him. "I want to be your mate properly," you tell him, "I want to bond, and I want to bear your mark. I'm absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure."

He whines softly, and you lean up to lave your tongue over one of the scent glands on his neck.

"Please, John?"

"Alright," he growls, and you're grinning as he presses down against you.

He's gentle--it isn't as though the two of you have never had sex before, but he's so, so very careful this time. You're whining by the time he's stretched you out, tired of being teased, but still he goes on glacially slow. He's crooking all three fingers to tease your prostate when you just--break, for lack of a better word.

"John--"

"Just a bit more, Dave. I don't wanna hurt you."

"I've ridden your fingers like. Every other day this week, we have been bangin' like bunnies--I'm ready, I'm good, just--please?"

He shakes his head and proceeds to finger you until you're shaking, gasping, pleading.

While that's great fun and all, you're completely serious about him marking you and would really rather not bust a nut before you get to that point. You actually push his hand away, ignoring the soft growl he lets out as you do so.

"John, I need you _now_ and I'm gonna be pretty upset if you make me come just with your fingers," you pant, and he seems to understand that oh, okay, you must've been pretty fucking close if you're putting it that way.

"You're su--"

" _Yes I'm sure!_ "

He cracks a smile, settling between your legs and rubbing against you just to tease. "I dunno," he murmurs, "You sound pretty frantic--maybe I should calm you down a little first."

You groan and go limp against the pillow, resolutely _not pouting_ as he laughs above you.

"Shh, shh--I'm kidding. Oh my god, I'm kidding, Dave."

You huff as he reaches for the lube once more and slicks himself up, but the soft kiss he presses to your lips once he's finished has you smiling.

"Hey," he whispers. "Hey," you reply, winding your arms up around his neck.

"You know I love you a lot, right?"

"I wouldn't ask you to do this if you didn't," you promise, and lean up to steal a kiss. "I love you too."

He kisses you back quickly and lines up, rolling his hips against yours fluidly and slowly. You're thankful for the slow pace, because as much as you may want the show to get on the road, you know he'd beat himself up if he hurt you at all. The initial stretch is always just a little uncomfortable no matter how well he stretches you out, but it's fading into a pleasant sensation soon enough, and you tighten your arms around John.

He stops once he's completely inside you, panting softly as he leans down to pepper kisses all over your cheeks and neck. You let go to cup his cheeks and slide your hands down his neck, curling one hand in his unruly hair and finding one of his hands with the other.

"I'm ready," you promise, arching your hips up against his, and he nods. "Okay."

You can't help but suck in a breath as he pulls out, biting your lip as he pushes back in--sure, the sensation is still an odd one, but it's a _pleasant_ sort of odd and you enjoy it perhaps too much. Your hand tightens in his hair and he squeezes your other hand, leaning down to plunder your mouth as he works at a slow rhythm. His thrusts are deep and you feel like you're drowning, almost, washed over by waves of sensation as you kiss back as sweetly as you can, as deeply as you can.

He strings you along gradually, building his tempo and pulling away from you a little at a time. You look up at him with wet lips and half-lidded eyes and he growls, leaning down once more to nibble and suck at your neck. Your breath hitches as he lets go of your hand to slide his arm under your waist, dragging your hips up further against his so he can experiment with angles.

You can feel John's grin against your skin when you shout, your toes curling because _fuck if he didn't hit it dead on that time_.

You wrap your legs around his waist and tip your head back in open invitation, panting and moaning up to the ceiling.

You think you've braced yourself enough, but you're utterly unprepared as he sinks his teeth into you.

Everyone told you it would hurt, that it would be almost unbearable, but fuck, they were so wrong. Does it sting? Fuck yes it stings, but it's glorious and you seize up under him as you're swamped with heaps of pleasure above what he's already causing. He pulls away to lap at the open wounds and you let out a soft, pleasured sob. You cry out once more as he bites down again, doing his best to make the bite deeper.

"'M gonna come," you breathe, eyes closed. "Gonna come, gonna come-- _fuck--John!_ "

He presses down as close to you as he can, completely covering you with his body as he pulls away to kiss you. Your vision whites out and you can taste copper on your tongue as you shake.

You feel his hips falter as you're coming down, stroke his hair as you smile up at him. "Go on," you murmur, "Wanna see you."

He nods, and you shiver when you feel him release moments later, feel his knot swell and slowly decompress as he settles stop you and laps at the blood on your neck.

"That was amazing," you hum, going completely pliant under him. "Gotta do that again sometime."

"It was pretty intense," he replies, and lifts his head to grin at you--he's licking blood off his teeth and you shiver. "We're definitely going to do that again."

By the time John's knot goes down enough to pull out, your neck is throbbing. That doesn't change the fact that you smile dazedly the whole time he cleans and bandages it, sprawled out across your sheets naked and splattered in come.

(You can feel his content through the bond, just a little--and his concern, and his amusement. It's glorious, and it only makes you smile brighter as he finishes up with the bandages and wipes you down with a wet washcloth.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the longest chapter so far, and while part of me is embarrassed about the fact, the rest of me is kind of proud. I'm actually pretty great at writing smut for a guy who's asexual most days and demisexual the rest.
> 
> Anyway, they're officially bonded now! Wonder how the others are going to feel about that one...


	13. Daddy Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not that Roxy has Daddy issues--her father IS the issue.

"Hey, Mom?"  
"Yes, snookums?"

Roxy shifts uneasily as she sits across from you. You wonder where her mate is, but don't worry--Janey can take care of herself, you know, and maybe she's busy.

"Why can't we meet mine and Rose's father?"

Your eyes widen and you set down your fork, understanding suddenly why Miss Crocker isn't joining you for dinner tonight.

"Roxanne," you sigh, and she stiffens. You only call her by her full first name when things are serious. "...your father is a terrible person. He doesn't know you exist, and he doesn't need to. It's a long story--please trust me on this. You don't need to know."

She pushes a piece of broccoli around on her plate. "I have time," she mumbles, "I just want to know, Mom."

You're silent, making yourself eat a bit despite the fact that everything tastes like ash now. "We're going to wrap your plate," you tell Roxy after a moment, "And my plate as well. We can eat later--if I'm going to talk about this, we're eating dessert first."

-

He seemed sweet, if not a bit cocky. Southern drawl. Crooked smile. Muscle.

You were only looking for a little fun, and he was of age. Sure, you were a few years older, but your meetings and copulations were completely legal. He made you laugh. He drank with you. He didn't try to kiss you. You were both alphas, after all, and this was just a bit of practice.

For a while, things went smoothly. You got together when one of you was stressed, usually you. He smelled deliciously like an omega sometimes, and he told you his roommate liked him to scent them so they wouldn't get hit on.

He was a liar. He was such a liar.

The sorry sack of shit was mated. He asked to please break off your casual fling, because his mate was pregnant and he loved him. He was trying to get on the straight and narrow. He was trying to be a better man.

You made him send a message to his mate confessing his screwup. You determinedly did not tell him that you'd missed a period, or that he was the only person you'd messed around with in a while. He didn't need to know. You didn't want him to know. You could take care of yourself and any offspring--young as you were, you were a star scientist developing wonderful things for medicine. You didn't need his help.

You took your research notes and transferred to a different lab, one up north. You participated in the second wave of testing for the drug you had created. There were complications, but they weren't as severe as they would've been without the drug. You had two perfect, beautiful baby girls and cheered when they took after you more than him.

-

Roxy's staring when you're finished with your story, jaw dropped. There's melted ice cream on her chin, and you wipe it away. "Now you know," you sigh, grabbing her hand and squeezing gently.

"What an absolute _ass_ ," she manages after a moment, setting the now-empty container of ice cream on the coffee table.

And then it dawns on her.

"Rosie and I have another sibling?" she breathes, and you nod. "Mom! Mom, I have to find them! I have to--I need to know them!"

You sigh softly, standing and kissing the top of her head. "I'll see what I can dig up about your father. I think I still have his address in an old address book... It's been two decades, though--he may not be where he was anymore."

"It's a good place to start, though," Roxy laughs, and you feel a little guilty when you notice how pleased she seems--she adores Rose to pieces, and it seems she's eager to find and love this other sibling just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is about to bounce all over the place and I'd say sorry, but it's the way I've planned it. So... Not as sorry as I could be!
> 
> I am sorry it's taken this long to post this, though.

**Author's Note:**

> The God and Goddess above only know how long it'll take me to update this--I'm determined to have three chapters ahead written before posting a new chapter. Enjoy!


End file.
